


Crouse Manor

by unpathdwaters



Series: Estates [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Engagement, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 13:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unpathdwaters/pseuds/unpathdwaters
Summary: "Lawson!" Travis said with delight. The master of his apprenticeship, a Mr. Briere, quickly took the two glass beakers closest to Travis' hands and moved them to the side. Lawson barely had a moment to steel himself before Travis threw both himself at Lawson and propriety to the wind as he was often want to do. Lawson gladly caught him, wrapping his arms around Travis' waist and lifting him off the ground. He had missed him so dearly.





	Crouse Manor

**Author's Note:**

> a regency AU that is hopefully/basically just going to tell the stories of a bunch of different hockey pairings, starting with Lawson & Travis

Lawson willed himself to slow down as he reached the top of the hill, pulling gently back on the reins. He was lucky enough that his aunt had agreed to let him out of a carriage for the duration of their journey. If she saw him too far ahead, he’d never be allowed on horseback while traveling with her again. Still, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to watch the village come into view and couldn't wait. He had to keep some semblance of his independence as an adult.

Like many of his friends and acquaintances who hadn’t picked a trade, Lawson had joined the war when he was barely able to. He was lucky, as least he thought, that he was tall enough by sixteen to pass as a legal age.

That had been five years prior though and he hadn’t seen the village of his childhood since. With his parents gone to their villa in the south of France, it only left his mother’s sister, Lawson’s Aunt Felicia, to make sure he courted and married at what she and his family considered an appropriate social level. Or at least, that's what his aunt had told him. Lawson had written to his mother to confirm but hadn't yet received a response.

He grew nervous as he reached the peak. Not for the town itself or what his aunt wished to accomplish but for one person.

_Travis._

His boyhood friend, Travis Konecny. They’d never lost touch. Whether it was one of their mutual friends, sheer force of will, or magic, Travis’ letters always found their way to Lawson. Thinking of him, Lawson touched his hand to his chest where he could feel a few of Travis' letters in his jacket pocket. The rest were hidden in his luggage. He didn't trust his aunt not to snoop through his things but Lawson would be lying if he hadn't kept the sweeter letters with him even before meeting with his aunt for the journey.

No matter how many times his aunt asked or demanded before and after joining the army, Lawson never gave up his friendship with Travis. He certainly wasn't about to start now just because he was making his debut in society late and an honorably discharged member of the army.

The war was over and it was time for him to make his life just like the rest of his friends and colleagues. Some, like William Nylander and Auston Matthews, had gone back to their own countries (or adopted countries in Corporal Matthews' case) though they had sworn to visit. Others, like Lord Connor McDavid, were only a half days ride away. Yes, Lawson was ready to start the next chapter of his life.

=========

_“The army? But you’ve just turned sixteen.”_

_“I’m also near a foot taller than you,” Lawson teased his friend. He knew that telling Travis was going to be the hardest but he wasn’t prepared for his friend’s wet eyes and his fingers tightly bunching up the fabric on Lawson’s favorite shirt. “Travis,” he said soothingly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll come back to you, I swear it.”_

_“Write me?” Travis asked, not making eye contact with Lawson. Travis hated writing but luckily, since he wasn’t looking at Lawson, he missed his friend’s shock. Travis was always more fond of chemical measurements than letters. Lawson could barely get Travis to write him when he has gone on vacation in previous seasons._

_“I’ll swear that too,” Lawson told him quietly, gently peeling Travis’ fingers off of his shirt in order to interlace them with his own._

========

He couldn't wait to see him again.

Every item of clothing on him felt stiff and he wished he could stretch around but his aunt would be furious. He wondered what Travis was doing that very moment.

Travis didn't have to wear a fancy suit and although Lawson knew he was privileged, it didn't feel like that. His parents were barely around as it was before they took their leave to France. What was an empty house to a lonely stubborn child who ran away from it regardless?

When they were just boys and Lawson would steal things from his family's kitchens so Travis could play around and make small bubbling concoctions or explosions. It was only a matter of time before Mr. Briere found them and took Travis under his wing at the apothecary. Lawson wanted the best for Travis and at least he knew that Travis was safe and making a living even without Lawson there to protect him.

In fact, Lawson had always imagined coming home and proposing to Travis. They had never spoken about it so candidly but the letters they had sent one another over five years were hard to misinterpret. Lawson imagined filling his parent's large empty manor with children, servants, dogs, and whatever else Travis wished. Then Travis had heard from Aunt Felicia before Lawson had.

 _Dearest Lawson,_  
_A familiar face came into Mr. Briere's shop today. Your aunt Felicia could not have been more pleased in your imminent return to the estate. She spoke eagerly of your intentions to enter society in order to find yourself a spouse. I am so pleased to hear of your discharge. I hope this letter finds you well and I hope that you see fit to call upon me at some point while you're in town._  
_Travis_

Lawson felt himself grow nauseous even thinking of the letter. Never before had Travis ended a letter like that. Simply writing Travis instead of _'Yours'_ or ' _Forever._ '

He had no time to write Travis back to explain— he had no idea. His aunt had taken control nearly immediately after his discharge and there was only so much Lawson’s pension could do. He had dreamed of refusing his aunt but he could only imagine his parents' response. If his aunt didn't approve of the match, he would be disinherited and then were would he be? Living on his pension in the local inn? That wasn't a life fit to woo Travis with. Lawson needed to get back to their village and his manor to fix this.

========

"Lawson!" Travis said with delight. The master of his apprenticeship, a Mr. Briere, quickly took the two glass beakers closest to Travis' hands and moved them to the side. Lawson barely had a moment to steel himself before Travis threw both himself at Lawson and propriety to the wind as he was often want to do. Lawson gladly caught him, wrapping his arms around Travis' waist and lifting him off the ground. He had missed him so dearly.

Even while Travis had grown, Lawson had grown even more. The height difference now between them still remained as it had those years years. Lawson let Travis' feet touch the floor once more but didn't move away quite yet. Thankfully, he noticed that Travis' arms were still tight around him all the same.

Lawson was glad his aunt wasn't there for a number of reasons. She would have shouted, unlike Mr. Briere, who just politely coughed when the hug went on for longer than necessary. He was also smiling when the two young men moved apart so Lawson guessed he was more looking out for them considering the windows in the front shop room of Briere's Apothecary.

"Travis," Lawson said warmly, grasping Travis' hands in his own once they had moved away from one another to what Lawson hoped was a respectable enough distance. "Mr. Briere." He nodded towards the master of the shop who smiled at him.

"Welcome home, Lord Crouse."

"Not Lord, not yet at least. I need to marry first apparently." Lawson wished he could have taken it back the moment it left his lips. The look on Travis' face was heartbreaking. He quickly moved onto another subject. "It's something I'm still figuring out, I swear it. I just need to sort through my mother's papers." Travis' expression turned quizzical but Lawson was determined not to let Travis dwell on it too much, it was Lawson's problem to fix. "Tell me of your newest discovery. When we last spoke, you had caused nearly four beakers to explode at once."

"Ah, I remember that. Still a successful experiment though," Mr. Briere said from behind them.

Travis blushed at the praise from his mentor. Lawson squeezed his hands again, hoping he wouldn't move away. Travis looked at him and their hands together. The smile had faded from his face as though Aunt Felicia was right there in front of them. Still, Lawson listened to Travis speak, coaxing more stories from him, all the while swearing to himself that he'd find a way to make it right again.

========

Lawson couldn't help himself from glaring at his aunt the next morning. The expansive empty table between them wasn't big enough for Lawson. He thanked their servant, Nolan, for bringing him coffee and quickly dismissed the young teen who already looked uncomfortable even having only been in the room for thirty seconds.

His Aunt Felicia remained the same as though It was twenty years prior. Lawson always loathed her visits and he was near positive she did as well. Only putting up with him and his older sisters long enough so it wouldn't be obvious that she was only there to visit their mother and ask about inheritance.

"And where you were yesterday?" She asked smugly, as if she already knew the answer. She might well have, knowing how fast gossip traveled in the village nearest to their estate. She took a slow sip of her tea and Lawson imagined himself leaning over the table and smacking the cup right out of his aunt's hands.

"I went into town to see Travis," he responded casually. Almost too quickly his aunt responded with a harsh tone.

"You're not still consorting with that commoner are you?"

"Don't call him that," Lawson snapped. "He's a scientist and he's brilliant."

"I heard that he just makes smoke in the apothecary basement," Aunt Felicia sniffed. "He'll never fetch a respectable husband that way."

Lawson near slammed his spoon on the table. "Leave him be or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" His aunt had the smug grin that only someone with abundance in years could pull off. "Your parents left the estate in my trust until you marry and I'm to see you marry someone respectable. There's no reason everyone else around you shouldn't be respectable either."

"What would you know about respect?" Lawson said coldly. Without another glance at his aunt, he pushed back from the table and left the room. He took deep breaths, calming himself, and headed into his father's old study.

It still smelled familiar, like home. He was glad at least that his father had left him the majority of the texts. Instead of thinking of his aunt, he began planning to move the science and chemistry books to lower level shelves so Travis could reach them easier. Sure he could climb a ladder but why do that when instead Lawson could tease him. He took one more large inhale before sticking his head back through to the parlor entryway.

Thankfully, Aunt Felicia had gone. It was only Nolan in the room, clearing the little breakfast and cups off of the table.

He was a local boy from the village, one that Lawson hadn't even realized had been hired in the house until Travis had written to him a year or so back. His parents never kept many servants. Really just two and a cook but Lawson had been pleased to see them able to help Nolan with a position.

"Nolan, how are you?" Lawson asked warmly, wanting to put the uncomfortable morning behind them both. "I haven't seen you since you were at the height of my waist."

"I'm well, Master Crouse--"

"Lawson, just Lawson, please," Lawson tried hard to make sure it didn't sound like he was pleading but judging by the look on Nolan's face, it's possible that he had failed.

"Lawson then, sir," Nolan said, a little nervously. Lawson would have to work on that. He couldn't be the lord of an estate and have his own servants scared of him. Especially not ones he had known since they were children.

“How have you been? And how is—“ Lawson thought hard to remember one of Travis’ letters. He knew Nolan was sweet on someone in the village. “Nico? He’s a now cobbler, right?”

“Cobbler’s apprentice,” Nolan corrected him, cheeks flushed.

“Just how Travis says he’s still an apprentice? I’m sure they’ll both be on their own soon enough,” Lawson said confidently.

“He’s really good at what he does,” Nolan said excitedly. He looked down and it took Lawson a moment to realize that Nolan wasn’t ashamed but rather, he was looking at his shoes. Made with affection courtesy of his Nico, Lawson supposed.

"You know, I was wondering, do you need help for the market trip today?" Lawson asked. "Is it still done on my mother's old schedule? I could do for a walk to the village.”

“Will you help me carry things back or will I just be leaving you at the apothecary?” Nolan said with an innocence that Lawson saw right through. Lawson had even missed little Nolan's snark. It had only increased in time.

“I’m willing to come back and help you carry if you grant me a short stop in his shop,” Lawson bargained. “Then you’ll be able to stop at the cobbler’s. I did need new shoes and gosh, you know," he winked at Nolan, "I’d appreciate you ordering them for me. You know how hopeless I am with styles."

Nolan’s face was a bit flushed but his smile was happy. Lawson knocked their shoulders together and picked up one of the empty baskets on the kitchen stores. Nolan picked up the other and they headed towards the back of the house. “Seems more than fair.”

“Also, my aunt’s not around the rest of today," Lawson confided. "She went to visit with one of her father’s cousins who lives a few towns over so we shouldn't expect her for dinner either. You can relax a bit.”

The relief from Nolan was almost palpable. Not for the first time that morning, Lawson thought of how he couldn't wait to hear back from his mother. He had to look into the legalities of this inheritance sooner rather than later.

========

"What's that?" Lawson asked, setting down his baskets next to the apothecary door. He came around the counter, attempting to peer over Travis' shoulder.

Travis was holding the piece of paper so close to his face that Lawson nearly asked if he needed glasses. "It's a letter."

"Yes, I can see that." Lawson almost ended his tease with 'sweetheart.' He sighed and thanked the lord that Travis was too absorbed in his letter to notice.

"Mitchell thinks he's found a more potent recipe to cure hives on the skin. He asked to me test out his recipe but there are..." Travis checked the list again. "I have most of the ingredients but not all."

"Where is Mitchell now?" Lawson asked, not really caring too much about their mutual friend but rather, wanting to hear Travis continue speaking.

"He was in Romania when he posted the letter but I could have sworn Dylan Strome told me he was on Cyprus." Lawson allowed himself a laugh. Dylan or-- Lord Strome lived with his husband Lord McDavid a few miles east of his own. The two were married towards the end of the war, with Mitchell serving as the best man for both of them. If anyone knew about Mitchell's whereabouts, it was his two closest friends.

"With Mitchell it could have all happened within a day," Lawson pointed on but Travis' mind was already on other things.

"This would be brilliant if it works, especially for the children. They get so sick with hives-- it's so dangerous for them."

Lawson could tell Travis was already calculating the grams for each ingredient. He'd go to the shops and bring Travis back a meat pie so he wouldn't go hungry during his experiments. He imagined himself leaning in close to kiss Travis on the forehead and wishing him luck before leaving his genius alone. Instead, he just whispered to Travis that he'd return soon and slipped out to the front room of the apothecary.

Mr. Briere blocked his path to the door just as he was about to leave, his voice low enough that Travis couldn't hear him from the back room.

"Do you need anything from the shop? I'm going to get Travis a pie," Lawson offered.

Mr. Briere shook his head. There was a frown on his face and although it looked stern, it seemed more sad than anything else. "You know, I'm taking him to London with me in a few weeks."

"Travis? Why?"

"Twofold, we need more sponsors for our work here but also, I'm hoping that-"

"He'll court," Lawson said emptily, the pit in his stomach growing heavier.

"He's smart and doing well for himself. He's got a good reputation and any man would be happy with him as a partner. He'll run this shop soon enough."

"Why are you telling me this?" Lawson asked lowly, though he already knew.

"As a courtesy. He won't tell me what's on between the two of you but this is your warning. He can't wait for you forever and I won't let him."

"Thank you," Lawson said quietly. "You always look out for him. I'll fix this soon, I swear it."

If Mr. Briere was surprised by that, he didn't show it. "You better."

========

"You don't look as pleased as you did going into the shop. Is everything all right?" Gone was any of Nolan's shyness from just a few hours ago. Any other time Lawson would welcome it but this evening, he just took another bag from Nolan as they walked back towards the empty manor.

"Just a long day, I..." Lawson wasn't sure where to begin. "My aunt swears she needs to approve of my marriage match or else she'll refuse to hang over the manor but-"

"Wait, what?" Nolan stopped in his tracks, fumbling with the baskets he had been balancing in his arms. "She can't just do that."

Lawson looked over at his young friend. “What do you mean?”

“Your aunt...she...I’m not sure she’s been truthful with you," Nolan said, slowly and carefully. "I wasn’t sure until you mentioned your claim to the estate because I wasn't sure why you'd let her stay-" Nolan shut his mouth quickly but Lawson sent him a smile, encouraging him to continue. Nolan could speak poorly about his aunt all he wished. There would be no punishment, not from Lawson.

Nolan shook his head, as if trying to shake the memories loose. He looked up at Lawson, worried expression on his face.

“It’s all right, Nolan. You’re not in trouble. I promise. I won’t be cross and I wouldn’t let her fire you.”

“Your mother was so lovely," Nolan blurted out. "Before she left, she said that I wouldn't just be a servant but I could help to learn the accounts. She knew that-"

"I'm rubbish at them," Lawson interrupted, rolling his eyes. "She's not wrong about that but-"

"Well, sir, she also mentioned it because she knew Travis is rather better with science than numbers. She said someone had to keep the two of you in line," Nolan said, his eyes widening right with Lawson's.

"So then my mother..." Lawson breathed.

"Your mother expected you marry Travis, sir. I think the estate is yours already. I knew your aunt was supposed to come back and guide you if you needed help but it wasn't like anything you're describing."

"You think the estate is already in my name?" Lawson asked urgently, tightly gripping the baskets in his hands.

"I’m...almost positive the estate is yours now, regardless of marital status with anyone, with no stipulations.”

Lawson looked up towards the horizon. The sun was already setting. "Quickly, Nolan. Leave everything that can be unattended just in the kitchen for cook and help me look through the study and my mother's old desk. We may only have but two hours before my aunt returns."

========

In the end, the deed was just a piece of paper within an envelope.

There was no elaborate or nefarious plotted plan from his aunt but just an envelope with two sheets of paper in it from Lawson's mother. All that over two pieces of paper. They were sitting in one of the his favorite novels that his mother had left in the corner of her desk.

Untouched by his aunt like the rest of the messy drawers in the heirloom, Lawson tugged, slipping the letter out towards him, breathing in anticipation in seeing his mother's handwriting on the front of the envelope. All it said was _Lawson_. He ran his fingers over the ink in relief, praying it held the answers he was so desperately seeking.

 _Dearest son,_  
_Although I am saddened not to be able to greet you once you return home, I hope you can forgive me. Your father's health demands a warmer climate. I know I'm leaving the manor in good hands. Please visit your sisters and write often to tell of us of your days. If you have questions, I'm sure Aunt Felicia would be willing to help. There, of course, is a copy of the deed with the county if you should need it._  
_We hope to visit you and Travis soon. Please keep us updated on your plans to wed._  
_All my love,_  
_Mother_

Lawson was so overcome by emotion that he breathed heavily to stop himself from both laughing and crying. He turned to Nolan, who seemed more than a little worried about the lord of the manor.

"Nolan," Lawson started calmly, "If you could take my horse and ride into town, I'd like to have the constable brought up to the house, please. And if you see Ivan or Jakub on your way out, please instruct them to start packing my aunt's things in the spare carriage."

"Sir," Nolan nodded happily, smile on his face.

========

Lawson couldn't help himself. He was at the apothecary the moment the shop opened the following morning.

"Marry me," he blurted out right when he walked through the door.

The first response he heard wasn't Travis' voice but instead, Mr. Briere's snort of laughter. "I was wondering what all the commotion was up at your manor last night, Lord Crouse," he said with the tip of his head.

"Lawson," Travis gasped, scandalized, looking between Lawson and Mr. Briere. "You can't just-- What commotion? What is he talking about?"

"Do you want to marry me?" Lawson interrupted, with a soft voice. He stepped forward and took Travis' hands in his once more. This time it felt differently. He could feel himself buzzing. Travis' hands were covered in soot and burns. He made a note to buy him thick leather gloves as a courting gift. "If you don't want to, I won't speak of it ever again."

"Of course I want to marry you," Travis blurted out and Lawson felt his smile grow. "But that's not-- she won't let you. It's mad to even think she would ever accept it."

Lawson knew he would need to calm himself to explain that Travis didn't need to worry anymore but it was hard to focus. His brain had gone fuzzy right after Travis had told him " _Of course_." He pulled Travis closer until their chests were pressed together.

"It's my land and title, Travis, not hers." Travis pulled back, his eyes wide. "It transferred to me weeks ago when my parents left. My mother left me the official documentation. It'll be mine still once I marry and regardless of who I marry and I want to marry you," Lawson insisted. He smiled as he saw Travis' hope begin to build again. "I want to listen to you ramble on about heaven knows what and-- god," Lawson laughed and licked the pad of his thumb in order to wipe off soot from Travis' cheek, "clean you up each time you make a mess that will make the lives of everyone in this village and outside of it just a little easier."

Making sure no one was in view of them through the window, Lawson pulled Travis close against him and gave him a sweet, short kiss.

"Lawson," Travis said breathlessly, shaking his head. "Someone will see and-"

"And I'll tell them that I'm allowed to kiss my fiancé," Lawson said fondly. "There's nothing improper about that."

"Fiancé," Travis repeatedly dreamily, looking down at their clasped hands, his cheeks red.

"You _do_ want to marry me, don't you?" Lawson asked, quiet and hopeful.

Travis squeezed his hands and whispered back, "I want nothing more than that."

========  
_Epilogue_  
========

"Your young man is here to pick you up. Your betrothed," Mitchell teased, leaning forward to peek out to the front room of the apothecary. He knocked his feet against the legs of the stool he had perched himself on.

"You know, one day you'll be set to marry someone and then I'll get my revenge," Travis promised with a bright smile, no heat or anger towards his friend. It had been months since he had seen Mitchell and although a little thin and definitely in need of a bath, Mitchell seemed happy and brought Travis many new ingredients and foreign mixtures to experiment with.

"I think it's sweet!" Mitchell insisted, mirroring Travis' grin.

"Hmph," was Travis' only response.

"Besides, my brother asked Connor to be in charge of my zero suitors. He and Dylan were only married after a comical amount of courting disasters during the war. There's no way that they'll approve of anyone for me anytime soon."

"That was Connor's own love life. It might be different than yours," Travis warned him.

"We'll see," Mitchell didn't seem too convinced.

"Travis!" Lawson beamed at his fiancé and turned to shake Mitchell's hand. "And Mitchell, it's so good to see you again. I didn't even hear of any explosions today."

"You can't hear them from the manor," Travis scoffed.

"I said 'hear of,' my dear." Lawson beamed and kissed Travis on the side of his head. "Normally the villagers delight in telling me that my betrothed hasn't yet burned down his apothecary just yet. The people in this town, I swear. I’m going to buy chickens for the grounds so Nolan and I never have to come in for eggs again.”

"It's not my shop yet," Travis said, embarrassed.

"Mr. Briere said it's as good as yours."

Mitchell let them stare into each other's eyes for a few more seconds before excusing himself. "I'm off to help Dylan's people with the lambing," he called behind him.

"Goodbye," Travis and Lawson both said in unison, still holding one another's hands, not quite ready to look away just yet.


End file.
